James, the blond vampire, struck first.
With speed that defied physics, he lunged at Nathael. A normal human would've seen only a blur—a flash between the trees. But Nathael wasn't a normal human.
With an almost imperceptible movement, he sidestepped.
James's fist slammed into empty air—and continued its trajectory with such force that when it hit the ground, it sent a shockwave of earth, stone, and roots rippling meters outward. The earth trembled. Leaves fell from the trees as if the forest itself recoiled from the raw brutality of the blow.
Nathael didn't flinch. He merely arched an eyebrow.
"Impressive," he said. "But predictable."
Meanwhile, Laurent and Victoria had already chosen their target: the "weaker prey." Celestia.
"Let's go!" Victoria cried, her wild laugh echoing as she charged, fangs bared, toward the white cat.
Laurent, flanking from the other side, launched himself forward, red eyes blazing with bloodlust.
Celestia, however, didn't move. She only snorted.
"You think I'm weak? What poor judgment."
With inhuman—rather, feline—grace, she stepped sideways and spun on her axis, evading both attacks without even twitching her ears. Laurent shot past like a whirlwind; Victoria slammed into a tree in frustration.
Celestia didn't waste time.
She leapt meters into the air—and from there, with cold, clear voice, cast:
"Confringo!"
An explosion erupted at Laurent's feet just as he tried to halt his momentum.
Victoria dodged with flawless acrobatics.
But Laurent didn't.
The blast sent him flying backward, clothes charred, pride wounded. He landed with a growl—but sprang up instantly. Not bleeding. Not seriously hurt. Just… annoyed.
"Damn talking cat!" he roared.
Nathael, meanwhile, had already drawn his wand.
"Impedimenta!"
A red wave surged from his position, engulfing all three vampires. In a normal duel, the curse would've immobilized any foe. But these weren't normal foes.
The vampires barely staggered. Their muscles tensed—and the magic slid off their bodies like water over stone.
James laughed, baring fangs longer than before.
"Don't underestimate us, wizard," he growled. "We're more than that."
And he charged again.
This time, Nathael was ready.
"Protego!"
A barrier rose before him.
James struck it with enough force to shake the forest roots. The shield held… for a second. Then James was hurled backward, hands smoking from the repulsion charm.
Nathael didn't hesitate.
"Expelliarmus!"
The red bolt shot out with enough intensity to split the air. James, still disoriented, never saw it coming.
It hit his chest like a burning tree trunk.
James flew backward—through two trees, a bush, and finally crashed into an ancient oak, which shattered under the impact.
Silence.
For an instant.
But Celestia didn't stop.
She was already moving.
"Expelliarmus! Petrificus Totalus! Reducto! Confringo! Aguamenti!"
Spell after spell flew from her mouth—with precision and speed that would've left any Auror breathless. Each incantation was a magical bullet—unpredictable, unstoppable.
Laurent and Victoria could only dodge, retreat, leap, roll. No time to counter. Celestia's magic had them cornered, blinded in the storm.
Then they looked at each other.
A glance. A synchronized decision.
They ran—but not toward Celestia.
Toward Nathael.
A surprise attack is our last chance now.
The two vampires became twin streaks of shadow, moving faster than the eye could follow. If Nathael was distracted, it was their only hope.
But Celestia saw it.
"Glacius!"
An icy wave surged from the ground—chasing their steps. But when they reached Nathael's position…
Nathael… was no longer there.
"Apparition!"
He vanished just before they arrived.
Laurent and Victoria collided midair, confused, disoriented.
In that moment, James rose.
Clothes torn, eyes burning with fury, he rejoined the battlefield.
The three vampires regrouped, panting, eyes locked on Nathael and Celestia.
Nathael smiled.
"Tired?"
Celestia elegantly licked a paw.
"I'm bored."
Nathael nodded.
Then he closed his eyes—and began to speak.
In Celtic.
"Brìgh na gealaich, cum rinn!"
"Fuil an t-samhraidh, thoir an cumhachd!"
The words weren't mere sounds. They were magic. Ancestral magic. Forbidden magic.
The three vampires shuddered.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
From the sky, a thick fog descended over the forest clearing. Not ordinary fog—fog of silence, of magical blindness. The vampires, whose senses were their greatest weapons, suddenly couldn't see, smell, or hear. They were blind, alone, vulnerable.
But Nathael and Celestia… saw everything.
"Now!" Nathael said.
Celestia needed no more.
She enveloped herself in blue magic.
Her body became a living shadow—faster than thought, deadlier than death. Every reflex, every muscle, every cell amplified to its peak. Not just speed. Pure intention.
She struck.
The vampires, desperate, fled in separate directions.
But Celestia was faster than all three shadows combined.
First, Laurent.
A blue flash—and he was torn to pieces.
Then Victoria.
A blur—and her limbs lay scattered on the forest floor.
Finally, James, already fleeing into the trees.
Celestia landed before him.
"Goodbye," she said softly.
And with a flick of her tail, cast an Incendio amplified with ancestral magic.
The flames weren't red. They were brilliant, devouring blue.
All three bodies disintegrated in seconds—reduced to ash the wind carried away as if they'd never existed.
The fog lifted.
The forest returned to calm.
Nathael straightened his clothes, a quiet smile on his lips.
Celestia returned to his side, sat elegantly, and licked a paw—as if she'd just stretched after a nap.
"How boring," she said. "I thought they'd have more style."
Nathael laughed.
"At least you didn't stain your fur."
"Obviously," she said. "I'm a professional."
They walked to the wrecked car.
Nathael raised his wand.
"Reparo Totus."
The car trembled. Broken pieces reassembled; twisted metal returned to shape; windows regrew. In seconds, it was as good as new.
"That's handy," Celestia said, leaping into the passenger seat.
But before Nathael could open the door, a presence made itself known.
Heavy. Alert. Watchful.
From the woods emerged six giant wolves—white, black, gray—yellow eyes gleaming with intelligence.
At their front stood the largest, black-furred, ancient scars etched into his flank.
It was Sam.
Celestia smiled.
"You're late. We already dealt with the cold bloods."
Sam moved to a nearby tree—and within seconds, shifted back into human form.
"Thank you," he said, voice gravelly. "We've been tracking them for weeks. They've killed people in Forks and nearby—tourists, loners. We thought they were ordinary predators… but something in their essence told us they were different."
"They were," Nathael said. "Vampires. Not common. But not invincible."
Sam nodded.
"Today, we're not enemies. Today… we're allies."
"It was nothing," Nathael said modestly. "Just work."
Sam looked at Celestia.
"She… is something."
"I know," Nathael said, pride in his voice.
Sam nodded once more. Then shifted back into a wolf—and with a soft howl, vanished into the woods with his pack.
Nathael leaned against the car door and smiled.
"Not a bad day."
"Why?" Celestia asked, adjusting her collar.
"Because now, the Quileute elders have more reason to accept us. The vampires were their problem. We helped."
Celestia nodded.
"I hope so. Because if not…" She unsheathed her claws with a feline smile. "…they'll have to deal with me."
Nathael laughed, lifted her into his arms, and scratched her head.
"Let's go home."
They got in the car and drove back to the house-inn.